The Aristocrat

Daniel Newcomer is a writer from the US (now living in the Netherlands). While working to make fiction a career, the road has taken Daniel to some strange places, from working as a clown/professional water skier to the underground, hobo community of Madison, WI. Some of his past publications have included long-form nonfiction in 34th Parallel Magazine, investigative reporting in Earth Island Journal, and fiction in Crack the Spine magazine, among others.


The Aristocrat

“Did she see the aristocrat wearing blue?”
He was by the punchbowl rendering verbal stabs
Alliterative jabs. He pounced the night.
“She was outside I heard.”
It was a tropical night.
A Miami night.
“Under the palms.”
I bet she had her hands in her pockets,
Her eyes alert.
“What happened to her and the chicken farmer?”
“I thought she was with the banker?”
They were all there.
I heard the song of wind in the palms.
The sound of love behind the lifeguard shack.
Crunching, swatting the sand.
That’s how I remembered her.
Her tropical nights, the music from her side of town.
The glitter of stars on hurricane nights.
Her mother has a garden but now she waters it alone.
I know that about her.
They don’t know shit.
“I heard Jacabo was quite disgusted by the aristocrat’s blue getup.”
I remembered her soft chest. Like sugar she’d sweep stars away.
Her hair in the wind.
“Hey! Maria! Did you see what your sister did?”
Be mine. Love me while I’m asleep.
Make my dreams special.

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